


One Hot Summer

by virtualpersonal



Series: Seasons Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 17 year old sam, Desire, First Time, Hormones, Horny Sam, Hot, Hot Sex, M/M, Romance, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times, Teenagers, Temptation, Wincest - Freeform, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3833386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's hormones are on overdrive but getting pulled out of school and dumped at some isolated cabin with Dean means he won't be getting any relief. Or does it? He really could use a teacher and who better than Dean to demonstrate? Mostly light/fun.</p>
<p>A/N:  The first in a series of 4 stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written with Cha

The problem was Dean. Dean made everything look easy. Sam had spent two weeks sneaking around behind Dean watching him kiss girls. After fourteen nights of watching, Sam had ended up with Poison Ivy on his ankle, a vague notion of how to kiss and a pretty constant hard on. He fell asleep thinking about how to kiss and he woke up thinking about it. He had been all set to launch his plan to kiss Bethia at school when Dad had told them to pack. Now, here they were in the middle of nowhere in a lakeside cabin. There was no TV, no cell reception, no electricity, no Bethia to kiss and every time Sam looked at his older brother he could only stare at his lips.

They were out on the porch. Dean was sitting in a rocking chair... a fucking rocking chair, swatting fucking mosquitoes, and staring off at the dark waters of the lake. It was so damned hot and sticky, he leaned forward and pulled his tee-shirt off, tossing it at Sam's face, grinning at the annoyed look Sammy shot him. "Get me beer." At least they were stocked.

Rolling his eyes Sam balled up the shirt and threw it on the floor, eyes gliding over Dean’s chest as he walked past. He made sure to slam to screen door behind him, grabbed two beers and went back out to the porch. He tapped the bottle against Dean’s shoulder and waited for his brother to say something about the beer he'd brought out for himself.

Dean turned and grabbed the bottle, then stared at the second one in Sam's hand. He looked up into Sam's face and could tell little bro expected him to put up a stink. Instead, he touched his bottle to Sam's and just said, "Drink it slow. I don't want to haul your drunk ass inside."

Sam grinned and sat down on the top step by Dean's feet. "It sucks here, Dean," he took a sip of beer, "it really sucks." Wiping his mouth he looked out over the lake. "How long did Dad say we had to be here?"

Shaking his head, Dean answered. "Beats the hell outta me. Tomorrow will be too late." He was about to go out of his mind with boredom. Knocking back some of the beer, he swatted a mosquito and cursed. "This has got to be the worst place we've been, and we've been in plenty of dumps. Hope he gets done with whatever soon." Yeah, but when had he ever gotten back in less than a week? "If it weren't so hot that the cards would stick to my fingers, I'd teach you to play poker. And don't get started with you already know how... you gotta work on that poker face."

Sam shrugged and took another sip of beer. “So, Dean,” he cleared his throat, “there was this girl, you know, back in Camden.” He picked at the label on the beer bottle feeling his cheeks start to burn; scratched his nose then pushed his hair out of his eyes. “You know what? Never mind. Let's play poker - we're gonna go nuts if we sit here doing nothin'."

Studying Sam's profile, Dean started to smile. "Nah, let's not play poker. How about you tell me 'bout her. This girl in Camden." The silence didn't surprise Dean. "Did she have nice... you know," he motioned with his hands as he asked whether she had a nice rack. That was sure to get Sam tripping over his tongue and get him talking.

“Jesus, Dean!” Sam put his beer down on the step beside him, thinking, remembering. “She did… I mean, I didn’t,” he closed his eyes for a moment, “yeah.” He grinned and looked at Dean out of the corner of his eye. “She was really pretty though, you know? Long black hair, real tiny,” he looked up at Dean, “she would have fit right under my arm.” He lifted his arm up almost unconsciously as if he could see her there. “Smelled really good too,” he muttered almost under his breath. He let out a big sigh and picked up the beer bottle again, taking a long drink.

"You sweet on a girl, Sammy?" He teased, but a sadness swept through him. He knew Sam had a tendency to take things to heart, and a need to make long term friends. When he said he liked a girl, it probably meant a big time crush. How often would he get to explore something like that for more than a blink of an eye? That was one of the reasons Dean had learned to move so quickly on a girl. If he did the old dating before kissing thing, he'd never get laid. "Should'a told me." Yeah, he'd have given his brother some tips... after he gave him some shit of course.

Sam shrugged again. “I guess. Doesn’t matter, I never got to … well, I was gonna … you know kiss her.” He puffed out his cheeks and let out a long breath. “I didn’t really know… well, I was going to try.” Cringing, he waited for the abuse to start.

"Oh yeah?" Again with the silence. "What happened," Dean asked, not a hint of mockery in his voice.

"Nothin'." Sam chuckled softly, the smile fading quickly from his face. "Seriously, nothing. I didn't know where to start." He looked cautiously at Dean, trying to gage the mood he was in. "I didn't know what to do, Dean. How to start, like..." he turned to face his older brother, feeling a bit more confident, "how do you let a girl know that you like her... that you want to kiss her?"

The wise cracks about being irresistible and not having that problem died on his lips the instant his brother's gaze met his. "I don't know that there's a magic formula. I mean... it's trial and error. You just gotta," he sniffed, "you know, think there's nothing to lose. What's the worst that can happen? She says no, or maybe you get slapped." Okay, a crack slipped out, but it wasn't a bad one and it was the truth. "Some girls... you just know they're not gonna be prudes. Others... ah, let's go inside and play poker," he said, changing his mind.

"No! what?" For a minute there Sam though his brother was actually going to help him instead of just brushing him off. "Come on, Dean, I don't have anyone else to talk to!" It came out louder than Sam intended but it was true. The way they moved around Sam was lucky if he could even keep people's names straight. He was frustrated and pissed off. "I used to think I would die a virgin - now I think I'm going to die without ever even kissing someone." Sam slammed the beer bottle down on the top step splashing it up his arm.

"That's nuts... Sam." Dean got up and joined him on the stair, stretching his legs out and looking over at him. "You are not gonna die... you know I won't let you," he said, pointing at him with his bottle before he took a drink. Damn, he could get emo over the smallest things. "I was just gonna say, you can sometimes tell from the way they hold their head. You know, kinda tilted to the side, hair partly in their eyes... means the chick's flirting with you." He demonstrated the pose. "And ... I dunno, pupils get dark... kinda big... and if they sway toward you, even little," he moved a few inches toward Sam, "and if they're looking either in your eyes or at your mouth... it's in the bag." He took another swig, leaned his head back and swallowed, then looked back at Sam. "And if their lips part... real slow like this... then it's guaranteed."

As Dean's lips parted Sam felt a little jolt, it brought back memories of all those times he had watched Dean while he made out with some girl. He knew what Dean was talking about, well, some of it. He'd seen the way the girls looked at his older brother - like they wanted something from him. His eyes jumped down to Dean's mouth, his full bottom lip, then back to his brother's eyes. He looked up at Dean from behind his floppy bangs. "Then ... what do you do first?" he almost whispered.

"Yeah, kinda like that," Dean agreed, seeing Sam emulate the girls and nodding. "You know what I do next, not like you haven't seen it often enough," he grinned. He didn't mind that Sam shadowed him, he liked it.

Sam's eyes widened and he leaned back a little. "I was just .." he felt around behind him blindly for his beer, grabbed it and finished the rest of the bottle, gulping it down. He took a deep shuddering breath. "I was trying to see how it ... worked." He could feel a blush creeping up his neck and warmth growing in his belly. Looking at Dean from under long dark lashes he gave him a weak grin. "I kinda liked it." Okay, that beer was going straight to his head.

"Hmmm? You got that far with her? And liked it?" He noticed that Sam had finished his drink, no wonder he wasn't making a hundred percent sense here. But hey, that meant he might share things he otherwise wouldn't. "So ... arm go around her? You know, when you were liking it." Dean bet that was code for getting a stiffy.

Sam looked confused for a few seconds, "Me? Did I like.... oh...." crap "That's not what I meant. I liked .. You know - watching you." Suddenly feeling like he couldn't really breathe he tugged on the neck of his t-shirt. "I mean," he ran his hand down his face, "I liked watching you kiss girls." He moved as if to get up, "I should probably go ... to bed or something." Why couldn't he stop talking?

"Oh... that." He tried not to laugh at Sam's worried expression. "I get off on porn, you get off on soft porn," he shrugged, trying to be as casual as he could about it. "Here's the thing... it's a hundred times better when you're getting it, than watching," he pointed at Sam. "You know it's true. So next time you see someone you like, get them to that point with the swaying... don't hesitate. Go for it." He put his hand on Sam's back, patting him. "You've got it in you, you're a Winchester."

"Yeah, I guess." He leaned back into Dean's touch, liking the feel of his broad hand. Dean's lips looked really soft, no wonder there was always a girl. Sam leaned a little closer, staring at the drop of beer on the corner of his brother's mouth. Go for it Darting forward he crushed his mouth against the corner of Dean's, pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Everything happened at once. The sudden press of firm warm lips against his, a familiar burning... aching sensation, and the realization he'd been kissed. Sam had kissed him. He'd.... His heart sort of stuttered, and Dean told himself it was from shock. Then he tried to think about how many beers he'd had... three, just three, not so many that he would have imagined it. Instinctively, he licked his lips... and holy crap, he tasted Sam there, and no way... no way was he thinking of leaning in and...

He cleared his throat. "Right, just like that. Only with your arms around her," he said, finally figuring out he was an idiot. Sam had been trying the technique out on him. Course if the kid hadn't had that beer, he wouldn't have. And sure, he probably should be slugging him, or kicking his ass... but he found he couldn't get himself worked up enough to do that. "Just like that," he said more softly, this time leaning back on his elbows braced on the stairs and looking up at the moon. Yeah... he really needed to find Sammy a girl. Both of them...

Sucking on his bottom lip Sam sat very still, watching his brother. That had felt really good, and Dean tasted like Sam thought he would; beer, salt and, well, Dean. He shifted down a step, scooted a little closer and reached out shyly, sliding his hand over Dean's stomach, curling his hand over his brother's hip. "Kind of like this?" he asked tugging Dean a little closer.

Dean's stomach clenched under his brother's touch. Hell, other parts of him that shouldn't be standing at attention seemed to suddenly come alive. He sucked in his breath, trying to explain this to himself. Telling himself it was because they were bored to death, with no end in sight, and he was not reacting to his brother specifically, it was just a reaction to a touch... he was so hard up, any touch would do. His gaze met and clashed with Sam's and suddenly he wasn't so sure.

Swallowing hard, he reminded himself he was the older brother. It was his job to take care of Sam. If Sam was so drunk he wanted a demo, he shouldn't take him up on it... cause that would be really bad. Real bad. "Just like that..." his heart slammed into his chest. Dean took his brother's hand off his hip and sat up, trying to ignore the scorching heat left by Sam's hand print. "Let's get you to bed, Sammy."

Sam bit down hard on his bottom lip, tasting blood, sliding away from Dean quickly. He straightened his back, swaying a little, feeling a little dizzy. "I'm ... sorry, Dean. You mad?" He pressed his fingers to his bottom lip and then grimaced when they came away red. "I bit my lip."

"Mad... no." Maybe he was drunk... he had to be, cause why else did he find himself cupping Sam's chin, why was he wiping his lip with the pad of his thumb, and why the hell was he swaying toward Sam, wanting a proper taste? Jerking his face slightly so his lips ended up sliding along Sam's cheek, and moving over his ear instead of his original target, he whispered. "No one could resist your moves, Sammy, I'm pretty sure about that." He barely recognized his own voice and refused to analyze why he'd said 'no one' instead of 'no girl.' Afraid of these strange sensations sweeping through his system, Dean stood up and put his hand out. "Time to turn in."

Sam felt like his knees were going to buckle when he felt Dean’s breath on his ear. Felt so good. Glancing down at Dean’s hand, he reached out and slid his fingers slowly over his brother’s rough palm, then grabbed on and pulled himself up. Stumbling, he tripped up the step in front of him and fell against Dean’s Chest. “I think I’m a bit drunk, Dean.” He grinned at his brother, grabbing onto the waistband of his jeans to hold himself up. Dean smelled so good. Sam turned his face into Dean's neck, breathing deeply.

As Sam's body collided into his, as it felt almost like Sam was about to pull his pants down, Dean barely bit back a moan. Fuck... he knew better, knew he shouldn't be feeling like this... no matter how many drinks he'd had, Goddamit. Sam was a guy... and not just any guy, he was his little brother. Emphasis on 'little'... you listening down there? Didn't matter what he thought, his blood was definitely surging to his cock, and Sam wasn't helping any... the way he was practically nuzzling him.

"I know you are. Let's get you inside." He tried to keep his voice normal, putting his arm around Sam, his palm sliding down his side to his waist, over tight muscles that had developed overnight it seemed. "Come on..." Yeah, he was talking to himself as much as to his brother. He got him up the stairs, and they staggered a little. Each time Sam jostled against him, Dean gritted his teeth, fighting his feelings. "Keep that up and I'm picking you up, Goddamit," he finally snapped.

“You’re bossy.” Sam smiled and pressed his lips against Dean’s neck, lingering. There were so many feelings rushing through him, and it all felt so good. Maybe it wasn’t right, wasn’t how it was supposed to be, but Dean’s hands felt really good on him. No one loved him like Dean… it just made sense. He tucked his hand into Dean’s back pocket curling and uncurling his fingers against his brother's firm ass. He tried to walk straighter to please Dean.

"You bet I am." Dean's voice went from low to high pitched. He had to have imagined that kiss... had to, but Sam's hand in his pocket... no matter how hard he tried to unimagine it, it was still there... pressing into his ass, making him wonder what would happen if he pulled Sam close, held him the same way. No, no, no... This was just making him wish he was drunk. Then he'd have an excuse. Maybe.

"Sam, come on," he said more sharply, practically dragging his brother inside to the bedroom and shoving him down onto the bed. The distance between them allowed him to breathe again. "Get... get undressed. I'm gonna lock up," he said a bit tightly, for the first time in his life shying away from the sight of Sam in boxers. What the hell had gotten into him?

Turning, he left the room and went to secure the house.

For a few minutes, Sam just stared at the ceiling. His fingers drifted to his lips, the taste of Dean’s skin still there. Shit. Dean was going to kick his ass in the morning. Pushing himself up off the bed he kicked off his boots and pulled his socks off, almost falling off the bed while he struggled out of his jeans. He palmed the slight bulge in the front of his boxers, feeling his cheeks redden again. What the hell are you doing to yourself Sam? He snorted and grabbed the hem of his shirt. After a brief wrestling match, he threw the shirt on the floor and slid under the sheet.

Taking more time than he needed, Dean drained the rest of his beer, left the bottle on the kitchen table and headed back to the room. A part of him wanted to hit the bottle, reach for something stronger than beer. Another part of him worried about consequences... if he wasn't thinking straight now, what might he do if he had some whiskey inside him?

Generally noting the lump under the sheets that told him Sam was in bed, he kept his eyes off Sam. In the morning, this would all clear up and yeah... he'd find them stuff to do, just to keep the hormones from making him do or allow something they'd regret. Dad, it's all your fault I kissed Sammy cause you left us in fucking Merliville... yeah... not gonna cut it.

He undid his belt buckle, and unzipped. Pushing his jeans down his hips, he practically kicked them off since he was barefooted. Glancing at the ceiling fan, he wished it was circulating something other than hot air. The heat had to be getting to his brain too... yeah that was it. Crossing the room, he shut the light and got into his bed, leaving the sheets off. Hands behind his head, he watched the fan turned. "Night Sam."

Sam watched Dean get undressed through squinted eyes, his brother moved so easily; Sam still felt like he was all arms and legs. The light turned off, he heard Dean’s bed creak and his goodnight. Sam ran through the evening in his mind, listening to Dean’s breathing from across the room. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Dean’s mouth had felt when he had kissed him, it was softer than he thought it would be, his brother’s lips smoother, warmer. Sam shifted in bed, leaned up and held his breath to listen. Dean’s breathing was deep and even, he was sleeping.

He sat up, slid out of his bed and padded quietly over to Dean’s bed. Sam just stood there for a while, listening to Dean’s breath, watching the rise and fall of his chest; then he sat down as gently as he could on the side of Dean’s bed.

Dean didn’t move, his breathing still even and calm; Sam leaned down slowly and pressed his slightly parted lips against Dean’s. He waited, and when Dean didn’t stir, he leaned in again, drawing Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth ever-so-gently.

"Mmmn..." Dean started to complain as something disturbed his sleep, but before he came awake, the sensation of soft lips against his, sucking on him, turned the complaint into a moan of pleasure. Good... good, but he wanted more. Parting his lips, he dipped his tongue slightly inside, finding the heat of that silky mouth pressing so damned sweetly against his. He moved his hand, cupping the side of his dream date's face and kissing just a little harder, like he was almost afraid that if he was too aggressive, his date would bolt.

A moan built somewhere in Sam’s chest when he felt Dean’s tongue slide into his mouth, so slick and smooth, surprised he gasped into his brother’s mouth then just let the pleasure wash over him. Letting his weight settle cautiously against Dean’s chest Sam turned into his brother’s hand, so rough on his cheek. He let his tongue slip out of his mouth, licking along the velvety smooth bottom lip he’s been staring at all night. Don’t wake up, don’t wake up, don’t wake up. He felt like he couldn't catch his breath, shifted closer so he could press up against Dean's thigh, Holy shit. His heart was thundering so loud in his chest he was sure Dean would hear it.

The instant Dean sensed weight pressing into him, he closed his other arm around his date, running his hand up and down, then resting it on is date's ass. As their tongues tangled, he slowly became aware of something hard pressing into his thigh. Other things shifted into place too. There wasn't much softness to the body he was groping, it was all tight muscle... it belonged to a male. Goddamn Sammy for doing this to him, making him dream of a guy. And Goddamn himself for not forcing himself awake, and deciding to enjoy it.

Slanting his mouth, he deepened the kiss, caressing the roof of the guy's mouth... not just any guy, he tasted like Sam, tasted good like him, felt like how he thought Sam might feel. He tangled their tongues together and then started a thorough exploration, mapping every corner of his mouth, his breaths growing slightly ragged.

Felt so good. Sam didn’t know what to do with his hands, with his legs, his hips rolled forward into Dean’s leg- which kinda scared him and kinda felt really good, too good. He was just learning though. Right?. Just learning. Panting into Dean’s mouth Sam’s arm snaked over Dean’s hip, his fingers pressing into the hot flesh above Dean’s shorts. Dean's tongue felt so good in his mouth, he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on it, trying to pull it further inside his mouth.

"Yeah baby," Dean encouraged, molding the boy's body to his, deciding he needed more. Without breaking the kiss, he cupped the guy's ass, fingers digging into partially clothed flesh as he started to roll them over, needing to be on top, to control the kiss and gain the pressure he was starting to need to ease the throbbing ache between his legs.

Sam groaned and twisted out from under Dean sliding off the bed and thudding onto the floor. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was in his throat. Jesus Dean that was too good, too much, and totally not about learning anything anymore. Kissing your brother shouldn’t feel like that, shouldn’t feel like it’s setting you on fire somewhere deep inside your stomach. Sam sat there trying to calm himself down.

Reaching blindly out to grab his would-be lover, Dean complained loudly. "C'mere... need you. Don't be like that." His body was on fire, and he just fucking wasn't used to being left high and dry. "Whatever I said... didn't mean it."

Sam’s head fell back against the bed as his breathing slowed. He wondered who Dean was dreaming about, knowing it wasn’t him. He sighed and kneeled up to look at Dean’s face, watching his furrowed brow, reaching out he ran his finger along Dean’s lips, knowing he’d never get a chance to do it again.

Dean chased that finger, managing to suck part of it into his mouth and smiling triumphantly as his hand shot out and unerringly gripped the boy's wrist. "Stop driving me crazy... Sammy."

Sam jumped jerking back against Dean’s strong grip. What the hell? “D D Dean?” He tried to tug his hand away, to no avail. “Dean, I’m sorry, I….” he looked down, out of words.

The sudden movement combined with Sam's voice brought Dean awake. He jackknifed to a sitting position, "what... what happened?" Then found he had grabbed Sam's wrist, and that his brother was standing next to his bed. He could smell Sam... could smell his scent on himself, could taste him. He remembered the kissing on the stairs the... oh crap. Releasing Sam, he cocked his head. "Did I.... say anything?" Please God... don't let me have said anything about the dream... but he knew he must have, or why else had Sam awakened and come to investigate?

Sam’s mouth dropped open, then closed, then opened again as he tried to figure out what to say. He licked his lips, “S’okay Dean, go back to sleep,” his voice was husky, deep, “I’m sorry I … woke you.” Why did he feel so crappy? Why did his heart jump when Dean had said his name? Just the idea of Dean knowing it had been him… Sam sighed and tugged his arm free, going back to his bed, climbing in and rolling away from Dean. "Night, Dean." He pressed his face into his pillow.

"Sam?" The silence made him think maybe he'd imagined Sam had been right there. Nah, he knew he had been, but what had he heard, and why was he apologizing? Maybe he didn't wanna know. Telling himself that, he dropped back down on the pillow, rolling to his side and watching Sam. Only when he realized he was checking out the lean lines of his body visible in the semi dark room, did he roll over on his stomach, barely holding back a groan. Tomorrow, he was gonna tell his dad to get his ass back here. Okay, maybe not in those exact terms but...

* * *

 

When Sam's eyes cracked open in the morning he had a few moments to savor the deliciously cool morning air before everything came flooding back to him. The thoughts seeped back into his consciousness in no apparent order; the taste of beer on his lips, firm muscles under his hand, low-voiced words of advice from his brother, kissing, oh god kissing, Dean’s hands digging into the muscles of his ass. He sat bolt upright in bed eyes darting across the room to Dean’s sleeping form.

In slumber, Dean’s face was serene – he never seemed to look like that during the day. Sam’s eyes traced the smooth curve of Dean’s spine ending in the slight twist of his hips….. he scrambled out of bed. What the hell was wrong with him? There was no beer to blame now. Snatching his jeans off the floor he hopped around quietly pulling them on, focused on getting away from Dean for a while. He stopped briefly to scrawl one word on a scrap of paper on the bedside table, ‘swimming’. As he turned to leave his hazel eyes trailed once more over Dean’s face – then he darted out of the room.

It was a short walk to the lake, the breeze was nice as it ruffled his shaggy hair and the grass felt warm on his bare feet. He really needed a haircut. The water was still, blue, clear and Sam shucked off his jeans and waded in, gritting his teeth against the cold. Wearily, he looked down at his hands, splashing some water onto his face, he had to make sure everything was okay with Dean. He had no one else, pathetic as that seemed. He dove into the water and swam.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Dean woke, the heat of the day had started to set in. That and humidity, both of which had him cursing as he turned over to check on Sam. Bed was empty, and he couldn't hear any sounds from the kitchen or elsewhere in the house. For a second, his heart slammed against his chest and he quickly sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. Then he spotted the note on the nightstand and relaxed, letting out a breath. 

Old habits never died. Dad had drilled into him the importance of taking care of his brother and knowing where he was at all times, and even now, when Sam could take care of himself, Dean would still be on edge during any moments when he didn't know his brother's whereabouts. Maybe Sammy sensed this, cause he was pretty good about letting Dean know. 

Eyes half closed, he padded to the bathroom. By the time he got to brushing his teeth, he was semi conscious, just enough to remember the strange feelings that had come over him when he and Sam had been talking on the stairs. He mentally went over everything that happened. Sammy was drunk and didn't know any better than to ask him for his opinions and demonstrations on how to make a move on a girl. Recalling the strength of the unexpected attraction to his brother, Dean sucked his breath in. He should be thinking about how sick it was.... come on, him wondering what it would be like to kiss Sam... but instead he felt kinda curious. But no, that was just a moment in time where everything had come together, them being bored and horny, Sam wanting to talk about kissing and wanting a demo, one of them practically drunk and the other buzzed. Right, all those factors would never line up again, he didn't need to worry about it. He wouldn’t.

A short time later, he was headed for the lake with a small bag in which he'd put two monster sized sandwiches and other snacks, and was carrying a mug of java for himself and some water for Sam. When he got there, he saw where Sam's clothes were, set the bag and drinks down and looked out over the water. 

Damn... Sam could swim. For a long time, he watched long, lean limbs pulling his brother effortlessly through the water. There was no way Sam could have trouble with girls, not the way he looked. Dean might not be a good critic of other guys but he could admit that Sam was good looking, with his square jaw and... No he wasn't gonna think on the details, but his brother was one helluva boy-man. 

Eyes still on Sam, he started to undo his jeans. 

Sam loved the feel of his arms slicing through the still surface of the lake, drawing himself forward through the cool water. He always relaxed when he swam, lulled by the rhythm of his strokes, the relaxed pattern of his breathing; breathe, three strokes, breathe. 

After about half a mile he let his pace slow, glided through the water then kicked hard, pushed up and dove straight down past the sunlight kicking away from the surface into the cool darkness below. Kicking and pulling he swam down until his lungs ached and pressure build up in his ears; he flipped and kicked back up, straining for the surface then bursting through it, drinking in air. Floating for a while, he thought about the night before; Dean’s hands, Dean’s lips, groaned and punched the water. He began the swim back. 

When Sam was about thirty feet from the shore he slowed again and lifted his head, shaking the hair out of his eyes and began to tread water. His eyes ran over the shore – and there was Dean. 

Acknowledging Sam with a nod, Dean walked in. Even though the water wasn't cold, it was much cooler than being out in the sun and gave them some relief from the damned heat. When he was hip deep, he dove in, heading straight for his brother. He didn't have Sam's grace in the water, but he could swim well enough. Reaching him, he treaded water in front of him, searching his face. "No hangover, huh?" Flashing a grin, he sliced his hand through the water, sending water splashing straight into Sam's face, and then leaping backwards and swimming away with the backstroke. 

Sam couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face when Dean splashed him; it was a direct product of the relief that flooded through him. He shook his head again, flinging drops of water off into the sunlight. “No…” his face split into a grin, dimples and all, “no hangover. I feel good.” He smacked some water back at Dean. Hands sculling back and forth though the water in front of him, blinking droplets off his eyelashes Sam scanned the shoreline spotting a huge tree. The trunk was hanging over the water, a clear finish line. "Race ya to the tree," he yelled, nodding his head at the fallen trunk. Without waiting for a word from Dean Sam took off at full speed. 

"Sonova..." Changing directions, Dean hauled ass to try to catch up. Goddamit, he wasn't letting his younger brother beat him. First it would be swimming, then who knew what would be next. Nuh huh, not happening. Despite the mental protests to the notion of Sam winning, with each strong pull of his body through the water, he knew he wasn't gonna make it there first, and a part of him couldn't help but be a bit proud. Who was the one who'd taught Sammy to swim? Okay, that had been directly after he'd thrown him in but... 

He got to the trunk seconds behind Sam, and threw his hands over it, pulling himself out of the water and sitting down. Water pouring down from his face and chest, he pointed at Sam. "That's called cheating," he nodded to cut off Sam's protests. "Get your ass up here and let's see who knocks who down," he challenged. 

Sam hauled himself out of the water easily and straddled the trunk, then shook his head flinging water out in an arc from his head. Grinning at Dean, he swung his legs back and forth. “Dude! That’s called using _any_ advantage you have. Don’t tell me Dad didn’t teach you that one?” He shimmied closer to Dean on the trunk. “Okay – so how do I beat you at this? I just gotta knock you off the trunk? – sounds easy enough.” 

"Yeah... it's real easy," Dean spoke casually, but moving like a whipcord, he suddenly leaned in and grabbing Sam's shoulder shoved him off the log with all his strength, laughing as his brother came up out of the water sputtering. "Just like that... and no, it's not cheating ... it's using every advantage," he said with a one shouldered shrug, putting his hand out to help his brother back up. 

Sam coughed up a bit of water while he glared at Dean, shook himself then reached up and grabbed his older brother's hand. Once he had clambered back up onto the truck, he steadied himself, eyes laser focused watching for any twitch of a muscle in Dean's body indicating which direction he would move. He waited, rivulets of water running down his face and chest eyes moving slowly over Dean's body. Then Sam's right hand snapped out to grab Dean's thigh while his left shot up to the side of his brother's neck pushing him enough of balance to send him tumbling into the water. 

Sam threw a fist up in the air, "Yes!" He grinned down at Dean and reached out his hand. 

It was Dean's turn to glare. "Enjoy this moment... last one you gonna see," he said, grabbing Sam's hand. He was half way up when he jerked his hand, making as if to drag Sam into the water, then releasing him, he got up. "That was just practice." 

A half hour later, they were still going at it hard, each one whooping when they were successful, or making threats when they were dumped into the water. They had an even number of points and Dean really wanted this one so that he could call it a win, and then swim back for shore and maybe eat the sandwiches he'd brought. He had Sam laying practically all the way back, one of his arms under one of Sam's knees, struggling to put him off balance. Damn... little brother was stubborn. He'd bet bringing up that girl would do it. A mischievous glint entered his eyes as he leaned closer, whispering in Sam's ear. "About that kiss..." 

Sam’s breath faltered, his concentration broke as Dean’s hot breath ghosted over his ear. _That kiss_ He toppled off the trunk and splashed into the water below. Sam stayed under the water as long as he could embarrassed at how easy it was for Dean to rattle him. All the hesitancy of the morning came flooding back over him. Without a glimpse back at Dean he started swimming back to the shore in front of their cabin. 

Dean's loud laughter trailed off as he watched Sam's determined strokes. What the hell, was he _that,_ mad about the trick? Well that was bullshit. Diving in after him, he swam hard, catching up and grabbing his shoulder. "Yo... hold up. Every advantage, remember? You made the rule." He tried to keep the smirking to a minimum because if he got Sam pissy over this... there was no one else to talk to. 

Sam couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes. He pushed his wet hair back out of his eyes, gasping for breath. “Don’t bring it up anymore. The kissing thing I mean. I shouldn’t have told you.” Sam’s hands were moving slowly under the water and one of them brushed Dean’s chest making Sam kick back putting distance between them. “Just don’t bring it up again, okay?” 

"You shy, Sammy?" Dean grinned and chased, giving Sam a soft slap on the cheek. "Aw come on, there's nothing to be shy about. And you know you can tell me... ask me anything. What else you wanna know, Sam," he kept swimming closer, circling his brother. "Come on, ask me... technique? What to do, what to say... whatever you want to know, bro. How to drive em' crazy? How to whisper in their ears... Mmm?" which is exactly what Dean managed to do. 

Sam rubbed the back of his hand against his mouth, not able to decide whether he wanted to punch his brother or … slide his hand around behind his neck and… “Don’t be such a dick, Dean.” He turned and started to swim away. 

Making a grab for Sam's leg, Dean dragged him right back. That started a bit of a fight in the water, something dad had always told them not to do. Something they'd always ignored as they tried to half drown each other. Their bodies slid against each other, arms moving furiously... his trying to hang onto Sam, Sam trying to get rid of him, which made him laugh more. Dean ended up behind Sam, one arm thrown around his throat, swimming above him. "Gimme a ride back to shore," he demanded. "Work for your sandwich..." 

Sam gave in to Dean's playfulness, it didn't happen as much anymore and Sam missed his big brother's lighter side. He began stroking slowly towards the shore, conscious of the slide of his back against Dean’s chest with every pull through the water. He glanced up at the shore, not very far. Pulling harder, arms cutting through the water, body gliding against Dean’s, he swam. When he could stand, he slowed, wriggling in Dean’s grasp. “Get off me.” He struggled then swung around in Dean’s arms, gasping as his chest rubbed past Dean’s cool, slick skin. 

"Uh uh, all the way to the shore," Dean insisted, tightening his grip, eyes widening slightly as Sam fell back. It was hard to avoid his kicks when he was swimming over Sam again, but he managed. "You gonna backstroke all the way to the beach?" That's when he felt the sand under his feet, and righted them, his leg sliding between Sam's just as he let go of him. "You make an awesome ride... see, just like Disneyland," Dean said. Years ago, when Sam was about six or seven, he'd been the one to give him rides... and told him it was just as good as any old amusement park. 

Sam knew Dean was talking but all he could focus on was his brother’s thigh brushing against his not completely unaware dick. It really sucked being a teenager. He felt his cheeks go crimson and twisted his hips to turn away, get anywhere other than where Dean was this close. "Just go ... on up to the shore. I'll be up in a few minutes." 

"Now what's the matter?" Dean wasn't completely oblivious to his brother's changes of mood. No, he was really tuned into Sam, not that he always understood him. "I see... my turn to do the dragging? Alright, I'll drag your ass back. Come on, Samantha." Moving his hands lightning fast, he grabbed Sam like he was a bride being carried over the threshold, and started walking quickly. As they reached the shallow waters, and their chests emerged from the water, his brother got heavier and was a lot more unwieldy. He dumped him down, but felt his cock scrape against his hip and thigh. "Whoa... you're my hero, Sammy. Hard in cold water, quite a trick," he nodded. 

"It's not hard," Sam grunted, "it's _always_ like that." Looking smug even through his blush, Sam trudged up the beach adjusting his shorts. He'd had just about enough of his brother; if he wanted to talk about every little embarrassing thing _that_ was just fine. Sam flung himself down on the sand and rooted through the stuff that Dean had brought with him. He grabbed one of the sandwiches and took a huge bite. He munched away for a few seconds, swallowed and looked at Dean from under his still damp lashes. "It's _stupid hot_ out already. I bet it's going to be hotter than yesterday." Another bite and some more chewing.“You wanna give me some tips on French kissing later?” He took a sip of water, “or maybe – you could show me something better?” Sam took another bite of the sandwich and kept his eyes on Dean’s face, chewing and grinning at the same time and making some pretty nasty noises as a result 

"Show?" Remembering how the lesson he'd given Sam had gone a bitsouth, Dean rocked back on his heels, looking into Sam's innocent and yet not so innocent face. He blinked, cleared his throat, and bent down to grab the bag, trying not to look at Sam. "So tonight's lesson's gonna be French kissing. Fine... I mean sure, no problem. Chew with your mouth closed." Right, he was a good one to talk but talking of kissing and now those sounds... Dean sat, tore into his sandwich and eyed Sam. 

"So...what do you want to do this afternoon Dean?" Sam munched some more sandwich and washed it down with a swig of water. "Want to hang out here? We could have a few beers and relax. Just chill." Sam dropped the remains of his sandwich back on the bag and lay back, stretching his arms high above his head, twisting his aching spine. "Dude... I think I'm growing again, my back aches like a sonuvabitch." He closed his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. "Want to give me one of your famous backrubs?"

"Seriously, or are you just trying to get a backrub?" Dean asked, using the sandwich to point in Sam’s direction. 

"Seriously, but it doesn't matter - if you don't feel like it." Sam rolled over and cradled his head on his arms. "The sun feels good anyway." 

"Nah, finish eating. I'll give you one." He wasn't sure he wasn't being played, but Sam really was shooting up, and he'd seen him pop aspirins for the pain. He wasn't about to let him hurt when there was something he could do about it. "Might ask for one back though." Who was he kidding? When had he ever gotten a proper massage out of Sammy? 

Sam was actually starting to feel a little sleepy, “I don’t want any more to eat.” He turned his head so he could see Dean, blinking lazily in the sunlight. “And, I’ll give you a back rub later if you want. What the hell _else_ are we gonna do except roast our asses off in this heat?” 

Dean snorted in agreement and took another bite. "I was thinking we could try something fun and exciting, like... ah.... nope, I'm coming up with zip. What was dad thinking?" Why couldn't he have dumped 'em off somewhere where there were people? He shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and crawled over to Sam, running his hand lightly over his still slightly damp back. "Where do you want it?" 

“It’s sore right across my lower back, my hips maybe, I dunno.” Sam twisted a little getting comfortable. “When did you stop growing, Dean?” 

"I dunno, but if you keep growing? I'm gonna have to call you Sasquatch... yeah, like the monster," he said before Sam could ask. Splaying his hands wide over Sam's lower back, he started to knead his flesh, and to work the muscles underneath, rubbing in circles around his hips. 

Something that could only be described as a ‘happy noise’ left Sam’s lips and he wiggled his hips a little under the pressure of Dean’s touch. “When do you think Dad stopped growing? I’m already over six feet tall – I don’t want to be a freak.” Sam sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and breathed deeply, relaxing. 

"You're already a freak," Dean leaned down and spoke in his ear, "but a good freak... best kinda freak." Grinning from ear to ear, he pressed his thumbs in deeper, trying to ease all of the tension in his younger brother’s back. His hands moved together, then separated, going outward to Sam's hips, then meeting in the middle again, each pass a little lower down Sam's back. He tugged Sam's shorts down slightly, snickering when he noticed Sam clench his ass. "Nothing I haven't seen, bro." 

Goose bumps shot down Sam’s arms as Dean spoke so close to his ear, and he just decided to give up and lay there and enjoy it. Then he felt Dean tugging at his shorts and tensed a little thinking of his reaction to his older brother’s touch the night before. _whatever_ It felt good and his back really did ache, sometimes, it hurt so much at night he couldn’t fall asleep. 

Dean hit a particularly sore spot and Sam groaned. “MMfmmfm. That feels good.” _Felt good everywhere_ , Sam suddenly felt the urge to press his hips down, get a little friction from the ground. He arched his back as subtly as he could, twisting his hips; a small gasp puffing past his lips. 

"I'll bet." Yeah he hadn't had anyone to give him massages when he had growing pains. Then again, Dean didn't remember getting 'em this bad. Pressing just a little harder, he told Sam, "Tell me if it's too hard." 

Sam swallowed. "S'not too hard - not a girl Dean." That warmth was back, a ball of fire growing in his belly, making him... want. 

"Fifty percent girl," Dean insisted, pressing even harder. He stayed in one place for a bit, then moved quickly down Sam's thighs, to the back of his knees. "Joints hurt here?" The silence had him lifting his head. "Sam?" 

Sam sucked breath into his lungs, hands fisting the sand trying not to lose control over himself. If his brother, _brother_ kept touching him like that …. He rolled his hips into the ground unconsciously and stretched trying to cover the maneuver. “Good,” was all he managed to push out. 

Grinning, Dean worked on him some more. His hands slid over smooth skin and well defined muscles. His palms started to tingle, and he gave Sam a second glance, shaking his head. When he felt Sam move slightly, he glanced again. The air was thick with something, a tension he did not want to acknowledge. Cause ... yeah, it just made no sense. It was his imagination, that's all. That and being so fucking isolated. "Want me to work on your arms," he asked, his voice sounding a bit strange to his own ears. 

“I..I..Don’t think so.” Sam’s skin was tingling, everywhere, Dean’s hands leaving a trail of sensation behind them that was almost too much for Sam. He couldn’t even think straight, “I should…” he had to get out of there. “I’m going to..” he rolled over and came face to face with his brother. He stared into those green eyes, blinked, “I…” and Sam pushed himself up crashing his mouth into Dean’s, thrusting his tongue past his brother’s soft lips, their teeth clicked together, his nose crushed into his brothers and his dick was suddenly so hard it almost hurt. “Deean…” he whispered into his brother's mouth. 

He hadn't been expecting it. A part of him might have been wanting it... or something like it, but Dean wasn't prepared for the crushing of mouths together. He wasn't prepared to find his brother's tongue inside his mouth, or the strong thrill that ran through him. He hadn't expected Sam to call his name like that, like they'd been making love. And he sure as hell didn't expect the sudden surge of blood to his cock, or to find himself welcoming the kiss, sucking his brother's tongue inside his mouth, tangling his own tongue with his. Alarm bells rang in his head, even as his body ignored them and he reached out to cup the back of Sam's head, holding him in place as he took control over the kiss. 

Sam let himself go, for once, not listening to all the words that ran around in his mind all the time…and he just let his head fall back into Dean’s hand, running his tongue everywhere in that hot mouth, over smooth white teeth, glancing across the roof of Dean’s mouth, tangling their tongues together. His hands fluttered around Dean’s back for a few seconds, then landed, flat against the sun warmed damp skin of Dean’s strong back. 

His brother's scent and his soft, tentative touches did something they shouldn't have, they set Dean on fire. His stomach clenched with a wild, forbidden hunger, one he knew he should control... should nip in the bud right here, right now. But as wet lips slid against his, and his brother's chest pressed into him, he couldn't make himself give a damn about anything but this... about here and now. "Sammy," he said thickly, running his fingers through Sam's hair and bringing his mouth down again over his mouth. He tasted so damned good... so innocent, oh God... oh God he was going to hell for this. 

Hearing Dean say his name sent shocks straight down Sam’s spine and he arched up against his brother’s hips desperately seeking friction, rubbing, anything against the growing bulge in his shorts. It was out of Sam’s control, his rolling hips, his breath, his shaking hands that still moved timidly on Dean’s back. He felt his cheeks flush, embarrassed and tore his lips away from Dean’s – turning his head to hide his face. 

The instant Sam pulled away, Dean felt both a sense of loss and horror at what he'd done. His chest rose and fell as he turned the other way and closed his eyes. "Oh God... Sam, I'm..." he nodded, "sorry... I..." I what? What the fuck excuse did he have? Sam was young, a kid, he couldn't blame this on him, no way. Realizing he was still hanging onto his brother, he let him go like he'd been burned, pulling away. "That... that's how you French kiss," he said, thinking quickly, and blowing out a breath. "Okay, no more practicing on me... I mean not ever. Now you know how." Oh fuck, that kiss was burned into his mind... no way he was ever gonna forget. 

Sam rolled over facing away from Dean. “No…” his voice was almost a whisper. “I’m sorry….I got… it was good… and then …” Sam took a shuddering breath, “and then… I couldn’t … I didn’t know what to do. “ He squeezed his eyes shut – if Dean saw the tears he was trying to fight off he’d never hear the end of it. There had to be something wrong with him – he just wanted to turn around and grab Dean, pull him close again. “I didn’t know what to do with my hands…” his voice trailed off. 

What to do with his hands... his hands... The words reverberated in Dean's mind. If Sam had known what to do with his hands, they'd have been toast. Thank God he _didn't_ know. He let another loud breath out. "It'll come Sam. I swear... you got nothing to worry about... nothing," he put his hand on Sam's back, then pulled his hand away. "Really can't practice with me, though, okay?" For some reason, it felt like Sam wasn't getting _that_ part, which scared him. 

“I wasn’t practicing,” Sam murmured. He wiped his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. 

"What?" Dean's face jerked toward Sam. "Yes, you were. Don't..." If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was to see Sam cry, but he fought the instinct to pull him into his arms. That would be a mistake, a big one. "Don't cry, please..." Grabbing the paper he'd used to wrap the sandwiches, Dean crumpled it up into a tight ball. "You're at a confusing age... it'll get better, I swear it will." 

Sam’s heart lurched in his chest. “I’m not confused you assh…. “ His mouth snapped shut – he really didn’t want to get his ass kicked. “Seventeen years old Dean… I’m seventeen. It’s going to get better? You usually don’t blow smoke up my ass.” Brushing his hair out of his eyes Sam sat up, blinking up at his older brother, the guy who always had his back, always looked out for him, the only person who even cared where he was. “What’s going to _ever_ be better than you?” 

"What?!" Okay, now he was being repetitive, but that was maybe because he couldn't believe his ears. Sam couldn't be serious. Sam liked girls... he'd just told him that last night. "Sam," he cocked his head and gave him a look. "You're not thinking straight. Last night, you wanted to know how to kiss girls. THAT girl, back in Camden," he pointed out, not liking the insidious fluttering in his stomach. It wasn't right, he knew better. "I'm the only one you've kissed... it shouldn't have happened, it did... but that doesn't mean it can't get better. Sam, my first kiss was the _worst_ kiss. You don't settle for the first kiss, not ever." _Especially from your own brother!_

“I lied.” Sam sucked on his tongue, jaw jutting out and squared his shoulders, holding Dean’s eyes with his own. "I kissed Bethia. It was okay," he shrugged, gaining a little confidence, "I like girls - I ... just like guys too - I don't think there's anything wrong with that." He licked his lips, waiting for Dean to react. 

"You do..." Dean cleared his throat and tried to cover any shock he was feeling right now. He had no idea what to say. This was _not_ happening. But one look at Sam's vulnerable expression and he knew it _so was_ happening. "And how many guys have you kissed? None, right? So you can't decide that... not yet anyway." 

“Do you really want to know Dean? Or are you just asking to make yourself feel better?” Sam was getting mad. Usually Dean was the one who took risks, made the hard choices. He leaned closer to Dean, “You think whatever you need to make yourself feel okay about this, Dean, and I’ll do the same.” 

"I don't feel okay about this, Sam. I told you, my fault... not yours." His gaze locked with Sam's, and sonuvabitch... he had to fight the need to pull Sam close, to tell him fuck the rules, and to go for it. What the hell was he gonna do? Plan... yeah he was working on it. "Once we're outta here, next opportunity we get, you and I are going to Vegas. I'm getting you laid, and THEN... then you just might know what you want." Sure he had a rule against paying for it, but he'd pay for Sam... get him a professional hooker who'd give him the time of his life, and maybe set him straight. All he needed was a way to work it so his dad wouldn't find out, which should be easy enough since they usually had a set of wheels. 

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. When he looked back at Dean’s face, he could see uncertainty, something he wasn’t accustomed to. Maybe Dean’s mind wasn’t as made up as he wasn’t trying to make Sam believe. Sam’s eyes softened as his plan started to form and he licked his lips slowly, leaving them slightly parted. He stared at Dean for a while, until he saw Dean fidget; Sam climbed to his feet. 

“Okay Dean. That sounds great.” He smiled, the smile that always made Dean smile back, white teeth and dimples and patted Dean’s chest right above his heart. “I’m going to go up to the cabin and change… maybe just get out of the heat for a while.” “Thanks for helping.” He turned and took off running up the shore. 

Getting to his feet, Dean stood there for a long moment, before turning to watch Sam disappear. Was it really that easy? One moment he was Sam's dream date... guy... whatever, and the next he was ready to move on to some Vegas hooker? He should be happy, right? Goddamit, he was happy. Bending, he picked up a pebble and threw it as far as he could across the surface of the lake. Not satisfied, he sat back down, and kept throwing stones, one after another, hoping.... needing for his mind to stop, needing to think of something other than how Sam tasted, how perfect he felt ... Jaw clenched, he forced his mind to replay every kiss he'd shared with a girl, starting from the last town and working backwards... that should take a couple days.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam passed a lazy afternoon at the cabin, he had a long nap on the front porch, stretched out along the couch until the heat of the mid afternoon sun chased him inside. He knew Dean, knew that his brother would be away for a while; needing some time alone to sort out his thoughts. Sam was okay with that. He was pretty much more than okay with everything Dean did, except for the whole business with throwing his dirty clothes in Sam’s face. Sam shook his head, he’d never understood that.

He had read half a book, and eaten half a jar of jam with his fingers by the time night fell and he thought he heard footsteps outside. He stuffed his fingers in the jam jar one last time and sucked the jam off them as he peered out the front door.

The weather was fucking hot again, and diving into the water hadn't helped Dean... not to cool off, not in either sense of the word. He'd swam back and forth, tired himself out, no, 'exhausted' himself was a better word for it. Maybe then he could get to sleep early, and not have to kill too many more hours interacting with Sam. No he wasn't gonna hide from him forever but he pretty much convinced himself that whatever it was that was going on between them was because they were stuck out here, alone, and with nothing to do.

Course the first sight he was treated to was Sam's lips wrapped around his finger. His eyes glinted dangerously, but he bit down on his tongue. Sam didn't know any better, he was just a kid. Jaw clenched tight, he waited a sec for Sam to make room for him and walked inside. "Don't tell me that's what you had for dinner."

Sam pulled his finger out of his mouth slowly, “It was really good,” he said licking his lips. He held his finger out to Dean, “Wanna taste?”

"No Sam, I don't want a taste," he answered through gritted teeth, staring at him in exasperation. He'd fucking better not undo hours of trying not to think about Sam.

Sam blinked innocently, “s’just jam ya freak.” He stuffed his finger back in his mouth and sucked the last of the jam off, releasing his finger with a wet pop. He followed Dean into the living room, glad to have some company.

“I read half a book,” he grinned at Dean, “and, I might have eaten most of the jam and a lot of the crackers. But, I haven’t had a beer! You want one? I can get you one.” He darted into the kitchen and came back with two bottles, handing one to his brother. He sat down on the couch, knees bouncing. "I might have had too much sugar." He grinned at Dean from under his floppy bangs.

Okay, Sam was acting normal. Semi-normal, but if he sucked that finger again. Yeah he wanted a beer, hell he wanted a keg of beer, whatever it took to put him out. He reached for it, unable to think of a reasonable reason to ask Sam to sit on the other chair but making a suggestion, "I don't think you should have a beer." He grabbed both bottles, and set them down in front of himself on the coffee table. God... did he have to notice that Sam's breath smelled like wild cherries now... who the hell bought that jam? Pulling as far as he could from Sam, he grabbed one of the bottles and pretty much downed half of it.

Sam wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. "Dude! Come on! One beer isn't going to kill me." or you, "I guess, if I can't have a beer I'm gonna go get that jam jar again, it's really good." He pushed up from the couch. "Couldn't find any damn spoons anywhere in this place - haven't eaten jam with my fingers since I was little - tastes good though." He winked at Dean.

"No! Wait... drink the goddamn beer," he leaned his head back, trying to block out images of Sam with red jam on his mouth and on his fingers. Dammit... this was just nuts. How could a 'practice kiss' lead to this... this nightmare? "And stop moving," he snapped.

Sam flopped back down and took the beer, biting his bottom lip, stifling a laugh. He took a sip of beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, there was no way he was getting drunk tonight. He sat down next to Dean on the couch, throwing his feet up on the coffee table and leaning back. He felt his t-shirt ride up and a smile crept onto his face. "How was your afternoon? What did you do?" He lazily rubbed the bare skin above his jeans.

"I just... It was hot, so I decided to..." His eyes caught the movement, then lingered on the sliver of bare skin, and Sam's long fingers moving back and forth over it. He licked his lips. "I ahhh... Well I..." Okay you'd think that if Sam had an itch, he'd have stopped scratching by now, but no... Without thought, Dean's hand whipped out, and he grabbed Sam's wrist, forcing him to stop moving. "So I stayed in the water, basically."

Sam watched Dean's tongue as it moved along his lips... he thought back to Dean's words from last night ... if their lips part... real slow like this. So Dean liked the look of Sam's belly - that's why he'd grabbed his wrist. Sam quickly twisted his arm out of Dean's grasp letting his brother's hand land on his stomach. "The lake was nice. It was so hot out this afternoon - I feel asleep on the porch and then woke up feeling like I had been baked."

He was trying to process Sam's words, but it was hard when he found his hand was on Sam's stomach... and now all he could think about was how Sam felt against him in the water. His heart rate kicked up a notch. This had to stop... had to. Pulling his hand back, he grabbed the beer again, and took a couple long pulls. "Yeah, it was... nice." This time dragging his gaze away, he stared at the wall straight ahead of them. "What did you do with yourself? I mean other than reading and sleeping."

Sam wiggled around getting comfortable on the couch, letting his legs fall open, thigh resting against Dean's and keeping an eyes on his brother's face. "Well, I was thinking while you were out about Vegas. Dean, when we go, it'll be okay if I pick up a guy right? If I want to try that as well?" He reached out and squeezed Dean's arm, feeling his hard bicep and a little tingle of excitement started to pool in his belly. "It's really great of you to take me on a trip like that - I don't know if I mentioned it before - 'cause you know - some guys wouldn't be cool about taking their kid brother to ... you know ... be with some guy."

Confusion assaulted Dean's normally clear brain. His body was telling him one thing... the way Sam's thigh pressed into his, the way he was touching him, affecting him. Making Dean tense all over. The way he wasn't allowing space between them... all of that spoke of flirting, of trying to gain his attentions, and he was doing a damned good job of it. But his words, Sam's, they were at odds with all that. "You ah... want to be with a guy... to kiss a guy," he nodded a little too hard. "Okay."

He licked his lips and looked at Sam's hand on his arm still, then suddenly leaned forward to escape him. Draining his beer, he set it down and took Sam's bottle. "I'll see what I can do about that." And no, that was not jealousy coiling low in his stomach.

Sam clasped his hands behind his head, letting his shirt ride up higher. "Well, not just kissing," he said nudging Dean's leg with his own. "You know, I was thinking like ... ," he watched until Dean was taking a drink of beer, "a blow job or something. Maybe I could learn how to give one."

A groan escaped Dean and he made the mistake of looking over at Sam. His gut clenching with a hunger which would never be satisfied. He cocked his head to the side. "You kidding me?"

"What?" Sam blinked up at Dean. "If we're going to buy me some time with a guy...can't he teach me what to do with my mouth?" Twisting on the couch, Sam leaned back against the arm of the couch and pushed Dean's arms out of the way so he could stretch his legs out across Dean's lap. "I mean, really, who better to learn from? I bet some of those guys... are good." As determined as he was - Sam couldn’t say that without blushing. He could feel the blush crawling up his chest and neck. "It's so freakin' hot," he said, leaning forward and pulling his t-shirt off. He tossed it on the floor and got comfortable again.

Sam wanted to know what to do with his mouth... That alone had Dean's gaze locking onto said mouth, making him imagine Sam putting the knowledge he'd learn to use. His blood thickened, inching through his system, kicking his heart rate up through the fucking roof. Like that wasn't enough, Sam put his legs over him, just like that giving him brain freeze and making him ache between his legs. He put his hand out, to maybe push him off, and found his hand landing on smooth, warm skin.

Tortured green eyes met Sam's. "What... what are you trying to do to me?"

"Do to you? Nothin'. You said we couldn't, you didn't want to..." Sam felt a little bad, felt his confidence slip a little under Dean's gaze. "I ... if you don't wanna talk about it - s'okay, Dean." He pulled his legs back slowly, "You want me to get you another beer?"

He heard the shakiness in Sam's voice but had enough of his own troubles... too many to be able to offer comfort to Sam. Running his hand over his face, he nodded, relieved that Sam had moved away, allowing him to think more clearly. "Yeah... please."

As his brother got up and walked to the kitchen, Dean found himself staring at the smooth lines of his back, and lower, at his ass... wondering for an instant what Sam dreamt about. What did he really want to do with some two bit male hooker. Letting out a shaky breath at the thought of being outside any hotel room where Sam and this guy...

Sam took a minute to get himself together in the kitchen pupils get dark... kinda big... if they're looking either in your eyes or at your mouth... it's in the bag . That's why Dean's stare had rattled him, he'd never seen those green eyes like that before, full of want and need. He liked it, probably too much, but it scared him too - as cocky as he was trying to seem he really didn't know what he would do if.... Sam shook his head, opened the door and grabbed two more beers. Maybe he did need one after all.

Dean's mouth went flat, his face grim by the time Sam returned with the beer. Stretching his hand out, he swore he felt an electrical jolt when his fingers touched Sam's... which was ridiculous because they'd been touching all their lives.

When their fingers touched, Sam looked at Dean's eyes again, there was almost no green left, his pupils were wide, his normally sun-brown freckled cheeks a little pink. He looked ... really ... hot. He also looked a little pissed, or... Sam didn't know. He swallowed down some beer and slid past Dean's legs to sit beside him on the couch. "Hey..what's wrong?" He bumped his shoulder against Dean's, "Don't worry there's lots of beer left!"

Their shoulders touched and Dean didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Sam thought he was worried about the fucking beer. "Nuthin. Just... stop with the moving." Holding the cool bottle to his cheek for a while, he leaned his head back. "If you could be wherever you wanted right now, where would it be?" he asked, thinking some normal conversation might ease the unnatural needs torturing him.

"That's easy," Sam said, looking down at his beer, "anywhere you are." He shrugged. "Doesn't really matter where we are. Okay, maybe I'd rather be in civilization," he smiled, "but I mean, I like hangin' with you, Dean." He sipped his beer again, careful not to drink too much. His smile faded a little, "I guess you'd rather be somewhere else?"

Dean didn't answer for a long time. He imagined himself in some bar. Then in some woman's arms. Then in bed with a set of twins. Shit. "You know that's not true, Sam." He turned his face toward his brother's, and was suddenly struck by how beautiful Sammy was... inside and out. He'd kissed countless girls, most he couldn't even remember, and he'd never felt connected to them. He'd always felt connected with his brother. Maybe that's why their kiss held such power over him. He wasn't sure. "I can't stand being far away from you for long... you know that."

It wasn't a secret, but that feeling had just gotten more complicated. Too damned complicated, he thought as he pulled his gaze away from Sam's now wet lips and looked away.

Sam lifted his hand to touch Dean's arm... then let it fall to his lap. "Dean, I'm sorry about today. Things got kind of out of hand. But I..." he changed his mind and reached out a trembling hand, running the back of his fingers down Dean's arm. "I did like it. And, I'm sorry if you didn't, or at least, don't want to." Being devious had always been more Dean's style than Sam's. When it came right down to it - Sam nearly always just said what he was feeling.

Didn't Sam get it? That he'd liked it too much? Dean didn't say a word. Couldn't.

Sam rubbed his eyes then put his beer down on the table, hoping Dean wouldn't notice that he'd barely touched it. "You know, Dean? I'm really tired. I think I'm gonna call it a night." He pushed up off the couch and stretched, feeling his back pop and snap. Bending down quickly, he slipped his hand behind Dean's neck, squeezing gently and pressed his lips softly against Dean's cheek. He didn't wait for a reaction...just left the room, blushing furiously.

So close, Dean had been so close to saying 'hell with it' and slanting his mouth over Sam's... pulling him down for a kiss and just seeing where it went. Long after his brother was gone, his lips burned. His jeans felt tight... so damned tight. So damned wrong. Too wrong for him to close his eyes to it, right?

An hour passed, and though he'd been thinking about it, he was no closer to a solution. Without thought, he closed his eyes and squeezed himself over his jeans. Fuck... he shouldn't be imagining Sammy's face... Sam's mouth. He shouldn't be thinking about how Sam felt rubbing up against him in the water, firm muscles sliding against his, the hard knot between his legs. Groaning, Dean pulled his shirt out of his pants, unzipped and pushed his hand down into his boxers, arching and biting his lip.

Maybe if he helped himself, jacked off, he wouldn't keep thinking these thoughts about Sam. Once his body was satisfied, then all of this would go away, including the guilt. Closing his fingers tight around his shaft, he started to stroke himself, getting hard to images of his brother. Sick, he was sick, but his brother was... God he was beautiful. He lifted his hips, a choking sound escaping him.

Sam laid in bed awake, hoping that Dean would come upstairs before he fell asleep, somehow, knowing that he wouldn't. Restless, he got out of bed quietly and padded downstairs in his boxers. Trying to be as silent as he could in case Dean had fallen asleep on the couch, he was passing the living room door when he heard a sound that made him stop in his tracks. He leaned back and peered into the living room. It was too much for his brain to take in all at once, Dean's flushed face, the long curve of his body, swollen lips, and his hand moving over his cock. Sam's breathing stuttered to a halt and he gasped for air, moving silently into the room. He let himself fall onto the couch beside Dean, pressed up against Dean's side, his hand snaking over Dean's thighs.

For a little while, Dean told himself he was imagining this. Imagining Sam was with him. That Sam was leaning over him, his warm breaths caressing his cheek, his scent surrounding him, making him even crazier with need. But when his eyes fluttered open, he knew. Sam's hand was warm on his thigh, had him gasping. He should tell him to go to the room, to leave him alone, to fucking get the hell away.

Dean did none of those things. He licked his lips, swaying closer to Sam, their mouths separated by a mere inch. "I can't fight this alone. Help me fight it, Sammy. Help me," he pleaded, fucking into his fist, achingly aware that Sam's hand was close.

"I'll help you, Dean." Sam closed the distance between them, his lips ghosting over Dean's, then he licked his way into Dean's mouth, wet and rough and urgent. He moaned into Dean's mouth, and closed his eyes, hand curling around his brother's, threading his fingers through Dean's, sharing the grip on his hard shaft. He let Dean guide the speed, the intensity of their hands, but Sam fought for control of the kiss. His tongue tangled with Dean's, his lips crushed against his brothers until he could barely breathe.

No. He never spoke the word. It was too late... much too late after a day of wanting this, fighting thoughts of this, wanting Sam. A groan welled deep in his throat as his self control slipped into oblivion. The warmth of Sam's body, his taste, the way he felt against him... it was like a drug Dean couldn't... didn't know how to resist anymore. Opening his mouth a little wider, he gave Sam free access, a part of him aware that Sam's kisses had gone from tentative and experimental to possessive in a matter of seconds. His brother wasn't asking for kisses... he was kissing him, taking what he needed... showing him what they both needed. What he couldn't fight right now.

Feeling Dean give way, open up, sent shock waves through Sam's body. Dean's mouth beneath his, hot, wet, amazing; Sam lost himself somewhere, licking and sucking; rutting up against Dean's hip frantically. Dean was his, couldn’t belong to anyone else. It was like moving through a dream; Sam's leg slid over Dean's pressing them closer together. God, can't get close enough, he breathed in the scent of fresh air and sweat off Dean's skin.

Sam's fingers entangled with his, clenching around his cock, moving with him up and down his shaft made Dean throb and ache, sharpening his need. Fucking into both their fists, he leaned in, putting his free arm around Sam, running his palm up and down his back, fingers digging into his brother with each wave of pleasure crashing through his system.

Sam keened softly into his brother's mouth, following his brother's lead he worked the hard velvet flesh of Dean's cock. So good. Shaking, his body overrun with need he fisted his free hand in Dean's short hair, mine. He bit down hard on Dean's bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, whimpering as he thrust against Dean's hard body.

With Sam's rock hard arousal pressing into his side, Dean could barely breathe. He shifted so his hip was wedged between Sam's legs, against his cock, making it easier for his brother to get some relief by giving him something solid to fuck against. And he did... holy hell, Sam wasn't as shy as he'd thought. He didn't hesitate, not even for a second.

Blood pounded in Dean's temples, so loud, he could barely hear anything but his heart beats. How could something be this wrong and yet be this right? Did it matter? He needed this, he couldn't resist it. "Oh God... oh God Sammy," he whispered against his brother's mouth, strong sensations sweeping through him each time his brother fucked against him, each time Sam moved his hand over his shaft. He wanted more, needed more. Pulling away, he grabbed the bottom of his tee and started to peel it off.

Pulling his hands reluctantly away from Dean, Sam grabbed the t-shirt and helped to pull it over his brother's head throwing it behind them. His eyes ran over Dean's chest, trembling hands followed his gaze; smooth brown skin, faded white scares, hard muscles. His hands rested on Dean's chest for the longest moment then looking up at Dean from behind long dark lashes - seeing no resistance - his hands began to move again.

His fingers skated over Dean's hot flesh, marveling at how similar they were and how different. Chest heaving for breath, Sam leaned down and pressed his swollen wet lips to Dean's collar bone, nipping it gently. He licked his way down over his brother's chest Jesus. The feel of Dean all around him, made Sam groan and push his own hardness against Dean's leg. Lips trailing behind the pads of his fingertips, Sam re-learned his brother. He flicked his tongue out tasting Dean's nipple, feeling it harden beneath his touch he sucked it into his mouth, nipping and biting; drowning in all the sensation.

Oh God... every inch of Dean's skin burned with awareness, reacting to his younger brother's touches. Did Sam know what he was doing to him? Kissing him with those sweet lips, sucking his skin inside, making those small sounds that sent jolts of heat through Dean. As Sam's mouth moved lower on his body, Dean sucked his breath in... held it, lightly trailing his hands behind Sam's back even when what he wanted was to crush his brother to him.

Panting, Sam pulled away, overcome; wrapping his arms around Dean's ribs he pressed up against him shaking. "D d dean.." It was more of a plea than a question. Help me, show me.

Holy hell... How was Dean supposed to resist this? Sam, shaking in his arms, pleading... wanting. Wanting the same things he did, even if they were wrong, even if they were both going to hell over this? He should stop them now, he really should. They hadn't gone that far, not yet. And then Sam was pressing desperately against him, and all thoughts were driven out of Dean's mind... all thoughts but making Sam feel good, the way he'd been making him feel good.

"Okay... okay, baby, I got you." Slipping a hand under Sam's thigh, he pulled him up and toward him. Just as Sam started to straddle his thighs, Dean pushed his own jeans down, giving a grunt of impatience when they stuck to him, then kicked them off just as Sam put his weight on his lap. One hand flat against Sam's abs, holding him slightly away, he locked gazes with his brother, a sound breaking from him at the sight of Sam's swollen lips and the heat in his eyes.

As he was shifted onto Dean's lap, Sam's hand reached out - touching Dean's cheek, drawn, to his eyes, to the need he saw there ...and behind that need the same love he always counted on. Sam melted under Dean's touch. As Dean tugged him forward he couldn't help the groans, the sounds that left his mouth where did those sounds come from? The only thing that ran through Sam's mind like a silent mantra was Dean. The blood was rushing in his ears and his lips ached to feel Dean's again.

"You sure about this?" The words almost stuck in Dean's throat.

Sam stared into his brother's green eyes so dark with lust and he couldn't help running his tongue over his lips. He nodded slowly, giving Dean the unspoken confirmation he needed.

Dean slid his calloused palm up and down Sam's chest, then both hands on his brother's hips, he pulled him close, lifting his face, melding their mouths together as their bodies came into contact. His kisses were hard, intense... just the kind that would scare away an inexperienced person, but he couldn't help himself. One hand slid from Sam's hip, to his thigh, squeezing, then moving over Sam's cock straining against the light material of his boxers.

It startled Sam, the way his brother claimed his mouth, for a moment he felt panic rising in his chest - but then - when his eyelids fluttered open there was Dean. Sam gave in, any resistance, hesitance, shattered by that familiar freckled face and the insistent probing of his tongue. Then - Dean's hand brushed against the almost painful bulge in the front of Sam's shorts and his world fell apart; his breath caught in his chest, his head fell back and he whined, chasing Dean's hand with his hips. Falling into Dean's slick body, shimmying forward on his lap loving the feel of Dean so hard beneath his ass. Sliding his hands around Dean's neck he pulled himself closer, unconsciously rolling his hips into his brother's.

"So good... so good, Sam," he managed to say thickly as he felt Sam's hesitation dissipate. He could tell by the way he moved, chasing the pressure of his hand, that lust was riding him hard. Gripping Sam's thigh, he moved only his thumb, back and forth over his arousal, catching Sam's moans in his mouth... so fucking sweet. He rubbed his mouth across Sam's, licking him, then moving down to his throat. As he sucked on satin soft skin, his mind was assaulted by images of his mouth on Sam... giving him that goddamn blowjob he thought he would learn from someone else.

Dean's head reared up, he whispered hotly in Sam's ear. "Want my mouth on you... want to suck you, Sammy."

Dean's voice, those words, hot moist breath on his ear made the blood rush to Sam's cock - already straining, aching. He shuddered, hands clawing at Dean's back, "please, p pplease." His movements became frantic, licking and mouthing his way along Dean's jaw, back to his full lips, sucking and biting.

"Mmm." They kissed again, tongues tangling... battling. He loved how Sam's mouth clung to his, how he held nothing back, his reaction there for him to see... to feel... to hear. Maybe it wasn't so strange that even now, in the heat of the moment, he was damned proud of Sam's progress. Wasn't that how it had always been? Watching Sam grow up, praising him, encouraging him, and then sitting there amazed when his brother exceeded all his expectations.

He ran his hands up and down Sam's back, breaking the kiss, gripped his hips and pushed him up. His mouth was open, and left a hot wet trail down Sam's chest and stomach as Sam rose to his knees. His cock straining against his boxers was now eyelevel with Dean. His eyes focused on the wet spot on the thin material, and he dipped his head forward, sucking at the spot, taking in a bit of the material and Sam's shaft, near his tip.

"Fuck..." Sam's voice was thick, deep. His hands moved from Dean's shoulders to his hair and back again then settled on either side of his brother's neck, fingers curling gently into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. His breath was coming in short gasps, his lungs bursting to breathe but Dean ... right there. Sam shuddered, he could feel Dean's breath through the thin material that separated them - and it was painful, hot.

Words fell out of his mouth, it might have been his brother's name, it didn't make any sense and he didn't care, he just wanted Dean's mouth on him. He tugged on Dean's neck, arching into his face.... moaning quietly... begging

Hearing his brother's pleas, Dean was consumed with a fiery desire to make this a moment that neither of them would forget. Ever. He allowed Sam to pull him closer, but only to a point. Moving his mouth over Sam, he sucked him through the boxers, pressed his tongue against his shaft, let him fuck against his mouth, then moved back some so he couldn't get much pressure. Sam's desperation inflamed him, made him want to push him down on the sofa and cover his body, to show him things he never dreamed... neither of them ever dreamed.

Sam whimpered, gripping Dean's neck, fighting against the push and pull as his brother teased him. "Don't... Dddean." As soon as Dean pulled back again Sam's hands skimmed down over his brother's broad chest. He could barely breathe, each time he inhaled he felt like he was pushing back from Dean. He pressed his lips against Dean's forehead, his temple, "please..", his fingernails dug into the firm muscle of his brother's chest scraping over his nipples. "Please..." Just a little touch, that's all Sam wanted, needed, his cock was throbbing.

The things Sam's pleas did to him, the way his stomach clenched with need, the white hot heat coiling low in his belly had Dean almost as insane with need as his brother. He knew Sam was near the breaking point, that he couldn't take much more teasing... hell if he couldn't take it, why should Sam be able to? He shoved is hand under Sam's shorts, from the back of his thighs upwards until his palms were over Sam's ass cheeks. The material was now taut against Sam, clearly revealing his shaft.

With a single tug, Dean had Sam pressing against his mouth. He kissed his cock a couple of times, open-mouthed, wet kisses, then he sucked him through his shorts. Pushing his hands up higher and turning them, this time he gripped the waistband of the shorts and slowly dragged them down Sam's body.

When Sam's cock was free, Dean's mouth was there... hot and ready. He looked up once, met Sam's gaze... reading absolute need in those lust blown pupils, before licking him from base to tip.

Staring down into Dean's eyes Sam could feel his legs trembling. He's never wanted anything so much, so badly. There were knots in his stomach, a warmth pooling deep in his belly, and Dean's tongue .... Sam's head fell back, his mouth open, gasping for air. His hands fell to his sides and he let himself fall back against Dean's arms, arching into his wet mouth. His brother's tongue burned a trail up the taught skin of Sam's cock. His jaw slammed shut, his teeth grinding together, hands drifting back to his brother's soft hair... so soft.

Opening his mouth, Dean sucked Sam's tip into his mouth, giving him pressure with the flat of his tongue. He moved back and forth, but only down the length of his crown, refusing to allow him to fuck inside his mouth deeper. He stroked Sam's sides, his back, his ass, holding him... making sure he wouldn't fall back, and feeling every shudder reverberate through his body. He was so hot... so fucking hot. Slowly, he let him slip out of his mouth. "Almost there... almost there, Sammy," he said, kissing his hip, and smiling smugly as his brother attempted to find his mouth again.

Sam's breath hissed past his lips each time Dean withdrew, took himself away. Grabbing at Dean's shoulders Sam pulled, knowing only that he wanted his brother, closer, more, harder. He looked down, catching Dean's smile, his lips so close to Sam's flushed, swollen cock. Jesus. No longer caring what he had to say, how he had to beg, Sam writhed in his brother's arms.

Bringing one hand to the base of Sam's cock, Dean guided him back inside this mouth, this time taking as much of his hot flesh as he could. It took him a moment to get used to the feeling, and even thought he'd never done this before, he knew exactly what to do... knew what he liked. He sucked lightly, moving up and down, pulling off, licking Sam up and down his shaft, and under, vibrating and pulsing his tongue each time he sensed it heightened Sam's pleasure.

As his hips bucked into Dean's mouth, so warm, velvet-soft, Sam's eyes closed. Wetting his lips, he gasped then took a shuddering breath, "Dean... I'm ... I can't..." so much - too much. Sam had never felt anything like that tongue, his brother's mouth. The muscles in his thighs were aching, quivering with the strain of pushing, pulling, and tugging against Dean's hold.

A groan broke from him as he imagined Sam coming in his mouth. Suddenly unable to wait for it, he wrapped his lips around his brother's cock and started to suck him. He hummed as he moved, letting Sam set his own rhythm, his fingers digging into Sam's flesh each time he pulled him closer.

Sam felt his balls tighten, a warmth started in his belly - hot fingers spreading outwards through his body. Can't...wait... his hands flailed around Dean's head trying to warn him, push him away... but it was so good, so right, so...

A yell left Sam's mouth as the whole world seemed to fold in on him, Dean. He came hard, his cock pulsing, sending a flood of warmth into Dean's mouth. His head snapped back, hips bucking wildly...he held his breath so long his vision started to fade, the lingering throb of his orgasm leaving him drained. Sam gulped for oxygen, swallowing down great gulps of air... when he spoke his voice was a whisper... "Dean. Sssorry."

Ignoring Sam's warning, Dean held him in place and kept sucking. When his brother came hard, he was ready... he swallowed the ropes of cum, sucking lightly, making sure he caught everything Sam could give him. Should'a known... Sam would taste good.. he should'a known. He pulled his mouth off with a soft popping sound, and settled Sam down on his still hard cock. "Sorry for what?" Reaching out, he brushed Sam's damp hair away from his face and leaned in, kissing him hard at first, then tenderly. "Not for this..." he sucked Sam's lower lip, then rested his chin on his shoulder, holding him close, stroking his back. "I hope not for this," he repeated, knowing it could all blow up in their faces, but unable to be sorry right at that moment.

Sam licked his lips, tasting himself and Dean - together. He curled down over Dean, smiling from under his lashes. "Sorry... for.." he shrugged a shoulder, "so soon." He leaned down, grinding his ass back and forth once over Dean's lap. "Not for this, Dean", he agreed, "never." He chewed on his bottom lip for a few moments, his breathing almost slowed to normal. His eyes widened and he sat back a little, moving more than he really had to, smiling. He wanted to see his brother's eyes, "You want me to..?" he slipped his hand down between them, pressing against the base of Dean's cock. Leaning forward once more he nosed into Dean's hair, inhaling the scent of his sweat, musk. He could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks and he buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck, suddenly feeling a little shy, hand rubbing between his older brother's legs. "What do you want Dean? What should I ... do?"

Before he had time to enjoy relief at his brother's answer, Sam was staring into his eyes, touching him and asking him that question bordering on innocence. Dean's breath caught. He cupped Sam's face with both his hands, and pulled him in for a slow, lingering kiss, tasting him, mapping him, loving everything about him. When they broke the kiss, he looked down to where Sam was cupping him, rubbing his hand over his cock. He nodded, "it's good."

Leaning his head back, he started to lift his hips. He could tell Sam wanted to see him, wanted to watch, so he forced himself to keep his eyes open. His brother hadn't hidden anything from him, and he wouldn't hide from Sam. "Harder, hold me," he pleaded, his voice soft as a velvet whisper.

The taste of Dean in his mouth made Sam feel drunk, dosed and already he couldn't imagine not having this, not having Dean. His long thin fingers wrapped tighter around his brother's shaft, stroking slowly up and down, twisting his wrist a little. Dean's face was gorgeous, flushed pink, his lips full and swollen. Sam licked his lips and leaned down to steal a kiss, sucking Dean's bottom lip into his mouth, biting down then letting go. Hair falling down over his face, he leaned back again, squeezing Dean's cock, circling his hips in Dean's lap.

"Oh God... don't stop... don't stop Sammy," Dean pleaded, kissing him back each time he brought his mouth close enough. With each stroke of his fist, Sam was sending white hot heat through Dean's system. "Good... so fucking good," he said, bucking up, aware that Sam was fucking against him too, enhancing his pleasure. His mouth slipped past Sam's, down along the side of his throat. He kissed, and scraped his teeth along his brother's sensitive skin, soothing him with kisses. He tried to concentrate on the kissing, trying not to come too quickly, but he'd been hard and heavy for Sam all fucking day, and then the way his brother had messed with him until he'd gone to bed, and having just watched Sam come apart in his arms... he knew he was already on the edge and staying there was not gonna be possible.

Dean's tongue on his neck sent shivers down Sam's spine. He ran his hand up Dean's smooth length, rubbing his thumb across the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top. He leaned down, panting across Dean's ear, "wanted this all day... " His hips twitched forward as he sucked on Dean's ear lobe, rolling it gently between his teeth.

He moved his mouth lower, sucking Sam's flat male nipple, tonguing it. Concentrating... focusing on Sam, trying to hang on, not to feel the building pressure in his belly, not to succumb to it. His breaths grew more and more labored as he raised his hips almost mindlessly, fucking Sam's fist.

With his free hand Sam pressed Dean's head hard against his chest, arching his back, hips grinding down. He moaned through clenched teeth, the sensitive skin of his already half hard cock rubbing against his wrist. Panting, he pushed Dean back until he could see his face and dove for those lips, murmuring into his brother's mouth, "you wanted ... me, didn't you..." He crushed his mouth against Dean's, his fingers ghosting over the tip of his brother's cock smearing through the precome sliding back down to the base. He moved his hand over his brother's shaft, the way he liked it himself, the way that was so slow it almost hurt.

"Yes. All day." That was it, Dean couldn't take anymore.

Twisting around, he almost shoved Sam down on the small sofa, apologizing even as he got on top of him, and started fucking against him. Sam's thigh was lodged against his cock, giving him all the pressure he needed as he thrust. His mouth sought Sam's, coming messily down on his brother's, his tongue dipping inside immediately. Palm pressing into Sam's cheek, he started to tongue fuck him to the same rhythm as his thrusts, moaning with pleasure. "Love you Sam," he kissed him again. "Love you...."

Sam returned every kiss, sucking and biting and drinking up everything Dean had to offer. His hands slipped over Dean's back, sliding their way down his sweat-slick skin curving over his ass, fingers biting in to the flesh.

Dean grimaced as his back went stiff. "Say my name," he demanded, fucking harder, head rolling back as he started to climax.

Nuzzling into Dean's neck, biting up to his ear, Sam voice was breathy and rough, "Dean...." His blunt nails bit into the flesh of Dean's ass, crushing their bodies together.

"Sammy." Melding their mouths and bodies together, Dean came hard and fast, his hot cum spreading across his and Sam's stomach. Shuddering, he tasted blood on his lip, then suddenly collapsed on Sam. Letting out a few breaths as the last waves of pleasure swept over him, he lifted his head and searched Sam's eyes, smiling when he found no signs of distress. "Dean was my first. That's what we're tattooing across your ass," he said with a low chuckle. The thing of it was that a strange thrill ran though him at the thought of his name indelibly written on Sam.

Sam laughed - full and rich - rubbing his hand against the small of Dean's back. He pressed a gentle kiss against the corner of Dean's mouth then his hand snaked down between them so he could circle his fingers in his brother’s release, rubbing it into his stomach. He brought his hand back up to his lips and sucked his finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks, moaning softly. "Mmmmm better than the jam."

"Am I? You're probably right, let me check." Refusing to think past this moment, Dean stole another kiss from Sam, tasting himself on his brother's lips before sitting up, his legs still tangled in Sam's.

Sam didn't have the energy to move, he could have laid there all night with arms and legs everywhere as long as he was close to Dean.

Sitting next to him, Dean couldn't keep his hands off. He ran his palms up and down Sam's body, his arms, his chest, and the silky strands of his hair. "The jam... on purpose?" he asked, giving his brother a mock glare.

A grin grew on Sam's face as he shrugged, feigning innocence. He sighed contentedly leaning against Dean's hand as it tangled in his hair. His eyes roamed over his brother's body. "Hey Dean?" He grabbed his brother's free hand, threading their fingers together - knowing he'd get grief for it later.

"Yeah?" he cocked his head.

"Don't tell Dad I drank beer, 'kay?" He smiled.

THE END


End file.
